


Perfectly Marvelous

by idontevenlogic



Series: Knives and Bullets, Lavender and Mint [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Blood, Drinking, Emotional Sex, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, It's short stories that are just completely nonlinear, Knives, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-20 01:04:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12421812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idontevenlogic/pseuds/idontevenlogic
Summary: Series of short stories within the Knives and Bullets, Lavender and Mint series that mostly happen after Closer. There will be some domestic cuteness but also some tragic backstories for some of the other characters that won't get their own specific fics.(Very non-linear.)





	Perfectly Marvelous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oikawa tells Iwaizumi that it's something important to tell his parents, but when he's ready.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole fic is heavily inspired by the song Perfectly Marvelous from Cabaret, especially in this first chapter is that obvious. This is literally a place for me to write my self-indulgent smut and cute fluff for this series. However, it's not all gonna be happy, since I do plan to put Kageyama's backstory and why Oikawa doesn't like guns here.

Oikawa Tooru is a complicated person, Iwaizumi Hajime realized. They were different, raised different, like different things, but maybe that’s why they worked.

Oikawa was capable of unraveling Iwaizumi’s resolve with a few sultry words, held the confidence of a king, and could kill like nobody else, but he was more than that, so much more. He loved to sing and hum to himself when he performed the most domestic of tasks, went on walks in the brisk mornings to wake himself up, loved to watch corny SciFi films, and talk about all that he’d learned during his astronomy class in university. He wasn’t just his frightening reputation, wasn’t just a killer with a quick trigger finger. (He wasn’t even a natural dancer. Iwaizumi would sometimes come home to find him, when their nightly hours happened to match up, practicing into the early hours of morning because that one move was a bitch.) Oikawa was bubbly at times, a little childish, fascinated with science, and loved to take pictures with a polaroid camera, to make them feel real.

Iwaizumi was capable of rendering Oikawa boneless with a few scattered, feverish kisses along his neck, preferred blunt words rather than being outright intimidating, and had lost his guilt of killing a few years ago. Iwaizumi didn’t hum or sing, but tapped his foot or nodded his head rather than joining Oikawa in performing in their kitchen. He went on long runs like he was a spartan athlete, and much preferred vintage classic movies like _Godzilla_ to Oikawa’s favorite SciFi box office failures. Iwaizumi lived up to his reputation, and was quick to learn any new weapon Kuroo introduced him to. He was honest and real, often one to swat anyone over the head that was acting ridiculous (including and especially his boyfriend), and, honestly, hated having his pictures taken.

Which was an argument they’d had all too often recently, much Iwaizumi’s dismay.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said, crossing his arms over his chest and giving him a pout. “How can you hate having your picture taken?”

“I just do,” Iwaizumi huffed, still not looking Oikawa’s way, focusing on stirring his coffee instead and sinking further into their comfortable couch. This was not his favorite topic of conversation, because it always went the same way. Oikawa would always whine that Iwaizumi just didn’t care enough about their relationship to have it framed, while Iwaizumi would argue that their relationship is good enough that it doesn’t have to be framed to brag about. Then the argument would spiral into a variety of different subjects that were entirely irrelevant.

“That tells me nothing, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa replied. He fiddled with the camera in his hands, a gift from Kenma. ( _“You haven’t taken any photos in a long time, Tooru. Take some with Hajime so you can look back on this if we’re ever moved, this way you can’t ever forget him and he can’t ever forget you.”_ ) “Don’t you want to send some pictures to your parents someday? Show them how happy we are together?”

“What?” Iwaizumi hadn’t meant for his voice to come off so cold, but the tone had made Oikawa jump slightly in surprise. He turned to Oikawa who was now grinning, knowing that he had latched onto something important. How he loved to press buttons that were labeled off limits. Iwaizumi did not want to have this conversation. “Why the hell would you bring up my parents?”

“You never talk about them,” Oikawa replied easily. “You’ve met my mom, so I think it’s only fair that I meet one of your parents. It’d make us square.”

“I don’t want them to meet you,” Iwaizumi responded, with a vicious snap in his voice. That really wasn’t the right choice of words. He shouldn’t have said that, and he was about to open his mouth to correct himself, but Oikawa already upset.

“Excuse me?” Oikawa’s lightness melted away into pure wrath, the words flowed out easily yet clipped, as easy as slicing a throat with a knife. His eyes narrowed dangerously, standing up from his place on the couch beside him. “Are you embarrassed by me? Our relationship?”

 _Shut up and please just let me talk!_ “Oikawa, you didn’t mean—”

“Because I’m a former mercenary and currently a stripper?” Oikawa demanded. His volume was climbing as he grew more and more cross. “What? Think your parents are too good to meet someone like me? Think they would disapprove of me, Iwa-chan?”

“They don’t know I’m gay!” Iwaizumi shouted. There, he said it.

Iwaizumi’s parents didn’t know where he was or if he was still alive really, not that they would particularly noticed his absence, but he didn’t plan on talking to them again any time soon. He wasn’t the son they wanted. They wanted a son who could be a businessman and go with his father to the country clubs and make snobbish banter about stocks or some shit like that, but he wasn’t. Iwaizumi had always been better at sports, especially ones that were more . . . violently inclined, and they hadn’t approved of that in the slightest. And when they discovered that Iwaizumi’s friend Kuroo was gay, well, Kuroo hadn’t been allowed around the house after that point.

So, no, Iwaizumi’s parents didn’t know he was gay, and he wasn’t planning on having the conversation with them during his lifetime.

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re good enough, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said, evenly. He reached out and took Oikawa’s hand in his. “You’re too good for them.”

He leaned back in the cushions and stared at their wall of photos, all the ones Oikawa took of the two of them. He was always pinned them up after they were developed, no matter how blurry they came out. ( _“Because I love every picture with my Iwa-chan!”_ ) “My parents are judgmental, harsh. I didn’t finish school like they wanted, because it wasn’t the place for me. So, one night while I was in a bar near campus, Kuroo offered me a job. I left home that night without telling them. They never called, never sent me a text, and I did the same. They were homophobic, Oikawa, and further more I wasn’t really anything other than status to them. _“We have a son that will carry our legacy and make enough money to ensure our complete comfort in our elderly years.”_ They didn’t love me like I was their blood. I don’t want you to have to meet them, because I don’t want you to be hurt by them.”

Oikawa blinked at him. All of his anger had completely evaporated into thin air, leaving him only able to guiltily gape like a fish out of water. He hadn’t experienced this. His mother had just asked him when he was going to come out to the family because it was pretty damn obvious and he should stop trying to hide it from them. So, in unfamiliar territory, he was left scrambling for words. Iwaizumi would have to mark this day down. It wasn’t every day that Oikawa Tooru didn’t know exactly how to respond.

“Oh,” Oikawa said softly. “Well . . .” He fiddled with the camera again, playing with the focus. “We should still tell them, maybe call them and tell them, but only when you’re ready.”

“What?” Iwaizumi asked, incredulously. “Oikawa, they’ll just insult you, probably call you something horrible and derogatory that’ll just make me lose my shitty temper and hang up on them. Big deal, it won’t be the first time that I have hung up on them, but why even try to talk to them if we’re just going to be insulted?”

“Iwa-chan,” he smiled, setting aside the camera and climbing into Iwaizumi’s lap. He snuggled into Iwaizumi, giving a soft hum on contentment of being pressed against the hard muscle of his boyfriend. “If I paint my fingernails or toenails, would you ask for an explanation? Oh, and just so happens I did paint them green earlier.” He lifted his foot, pointed elegantly, to show off the pretty green polish. “If you ask me about it, I don’t have to give a thorough explanation if I don’t want to. I can just say, _“I think it’s pretty!”_ So, Iwa-chan, when it comes to telling your family about the two of us, you have two choices. You can tell everyone, _"Oh, yes! We’re gay, living together in luxurious sin having unbelievably hot sex whenever we feel like it!"_ Or you can just tell them the truth, that you met a perfectly marvelous man, me, who’s sexier than a perfect day and you’re living happily with him in an apartment. Fin.” He gave Iwaizumi a soft kiss, smiling against his lips in a way that immediately filled Iwaizumi with a sense of comfort. “We don’t have to say anything else. We can even end the call on that note.”

Iwaizumi couldn’t help but burst into laughter, filling the room and effectively ridding their home of any tense conversation that would’ve be left. It was liberating to feel the rigidness leave his body at Oikawa’s little speech, his sides already beginning to hurt. How his boyfriend managed to be both theatrical and comforting was a mystery, but his words were true.

Oikawa was beaming up at him as Iwaizumi laughed and said, “There you go. Laughter is a much better look on you, Iwa-chan. Your grumpy pouts are cute as fuck but seeing you laughing with wild abandon is better than anything.”

“You are ridiculous,” Iwaizumi managed to get out between cackles. He let his head fall back against the back of the sofa. “You make it seem so easy to just tell them.”

“It is, Iwa-chan, it is,” Oikawa promised earnestly. “Telling the truth, no matter how painful it is or how unaccepted it is, is always better and much easier than lying about it.”

“Aren’t you lying to your family?”

“They know I’m stripper, yes, but they have never asked whether or not I was a mercenary for hire, and until they do I don’t have to tell them. If they do ask, which I highly doubt they ever will, I will definitely tell them the truth, that I worked for a company that went about “cutting ties” individuals that were causing problems for the company or rivaling companies. Family deserves the truth, always and forever, Iwa-chan. Just not word for word in our case.” Oikawa sat up from Iwaizumi’s lap and stretched his lithe, lean muscles, reaching up to the ceiling like he could touch the stars. He looked right at Iwaizumi, eyes a beautiful swirl of brown. “And that goes for me too, Iwa-chan. You’re my boyfriend and that means no secrets from me, not a one.”

“And you won’t keep any secrets from me?” Iwaizumi asked. “What about how you left the job of being a gun for hire behind you, why you’re actually not all that comfortable with guns?”

“That’s sort of different,” Oikawa spoke softly. “That—That I’m still working up the courage to tell you. I plan on telling you, but I—Well, I need time to you that. It was pretty traumatic for me, and . . . You understand, right?”

“As long as you tell me someday, then I don’t mind waiting for you, Oikawa.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to scream at me here: http://idontevenlogic.tumblr.com


End file.
